


Fate of the Norns

by starrynightfantasies



Category: Loki laufeyson - Fandom
Genre: Childhood Abuse, F/M, Mention of abuse, Poor baby Loki, Self Loathing, Whipping, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-13 02:58:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11750643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrynightfantasies/pseuds/starrynightfantasies





	1. Chapter 1

 Their names were Urðr, Verðandi, and Skuld, and they were the three Norns. They were practically untouchable by anyone; even the gods. Despite popular belief, the three had very colourful personalities which led to many arguments. Most of the time, however, their tussles were settled easily. For each of the three had influence over a specific part of destiny. Urðr was responsible for _what once was,_ while Skuld controlled  _what shall be_ , and  Verðandi- the 'dreamer' as they called her- influenced  _what is coming into being_. 

Together, they wove the fabric of destiny for millenia. Until one baby tore them apart. 

"Verðandi, you  _know_ what he will become! You, of all people  _know! You can't stop it!_ " Skuld shouted. 

"He doesn't deserve  _any_ of this..." Verðandi whispered. "He's just a baby." 

"A  _Jotnar_ baby!" Urðr interjected. 

Their weaving continued even though they argued. Urðr pulled threads as thin as unicorn hair; weaving some into great tapestries while snipping others away and dropping them to the floor. Those were now  _what once was_ , for they no longer  _were_. Verðandi knew that if Urðr had her way, the baby they were discussing would end up in that pile as well- never having even lived. 

"Urðr, you  _know_ you can't just..." Skuld didn't finish.  Urðr was already shaking her head. "I  _know!_ But you have to understand. That  _baby_ is going to destroy  _everything_. Maybe not now, but... " 

Verðandi put her finger to her lips. "That's not your responsibility, Urðr. It is mine." 

 

Verðandi saw to it that the baby was adopted. She wove furiously for eight straight days until she was absolutely  _sure_ that nothing would stand in the way of his survival. She didn't know why she was so invested in one tiny child when the fates of so many were in her hands, but she simply couldn't stop thinking of him. 

 

 

 Loki was locked in his chambers again. He knew he wasn't strong enough to be the warrior that Thor would be, but he didn't understand why he was always punished for it. He ate everything his brother ate, even though he  _hated_ eating all of that meat. He trained just as hard; harder even. But he was still as skinny and weak as ever. It wasn't his fault, but their father thought Loki needed to "reflect" on his desires. He thought that would somehow bring out the hulking warrior within. 

He pulled a tattered book from the shelf and began to stare at the words on the page; not really absorbing their meaning. 

"Norns, will I  _ever_ please him?" 

 

 

"Did you hear that, Verðandi? Your favorite boy is calling to us again," Skuld snickered. 

Verðandi glared at Skuld. She just didn't understand how  _miserable_ Loki was.  Verðandi could  _feel_ his pain. The strange thing was, she'd never felt anyone else's emotions before. It was as if she was tied to him somehow. Perhaps it was because she'd tried so hard to save him as an infant. Evidently, she hadn't done such a great job though. Placing him in the hands of the Allfather had been a huge mistake. 

"He's so  _dramatic_ ,"  Urðr said, rolling her eyes. "Doesn't he know what he is yet? Doesn't he realize that he's  _never_ going to fit in there? He's  _not_ Aesir!" 

"And of course Odin is going to lock him away! All he does is pull silly pranks!" 

Verðandi had to bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Instead, she went back to her weaving- urging the Queen to help her adopted son somehow.

 

Loki sat outside Odin and Frigga's chambers, eavesdropping on their private conversation. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be out in the training yard-  _again_ , but he was growing quite tired of being beaten up by Thor. Or having stones thrown at him by the Warriors Three. Sif didn't harm him physically, but she liked to call him names. Her favorite was 'argr.' Loki supposed it could be worse. He just didn't know how. 

 _I just want Loki to have a little sun for himself. You and Thor cast such large shadows. And face it, Odin... he's not big enough to be a warrior like his brother. Let me teach him. I think he will be a huge_ asset. 

_Yes, but what of his pranks? Imagine magic added to that! What will he do when he can conjure illusions as well as you can?_

_He will help you and Thor trick the enemy on the battlefield. That's what he'll do!_

When Loki heard Frigga's footsteps approaching the door, he ran for his own chambers. He may not be particularly strong, but he  _was_ fast. Faster than any of the warriors. 

He began magic lessons with the Queen the following afternoon. 

 

 

 

"What have you  _done_ , Verðandi? You have singlehandedly  _ensured_ Ragnarok!" Skuld screamed as she examined the tapestry that Verðandi had woven. 

Verðandi did not understand the other woman's vitriol, but she was tired of being blamed for everything. So that night when their weaving was done, she slipped out under the Nornheim stars and vanished. 

She hoped she could find a way to help Loki without the use of her tapestries because she knew without a doubt she would never be allowed in Nornheim again. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Verðandi was watching Loki, but thankfully he didn't see her. She had cleverly hidden herself amongst Frigga's rose bushes. She thought maybe Loki was hiding too. He spent far too much of his precious childhood hiding. 

He hid from Odin, Thor, Sif, the other warriors. Sometimes, when he read for hours on end, Verðandi suspected he was hiding from himself. 

 

It had been several months since she'd disappeared from Nornheim, and Verðandi had not heard any word from the others. However, she had experienced some rather  _abnormal_ symptoms. Her hair, which was usually long anyway, had grown several inches, and she felt taller somehow. While she realized that the residents of every other realm experienced those things all the time, she had not. She had been a baby at one time; she knew, but she'd stopped aging when she'd reached mid-childhood, even though Skuld and Urðr were both fully grown women. 

Loki glanced around as if he'd heard something, and Verðandi stiffened. She had no idea what would happen if he caught her, but she didn't want to find out. He was a  _prince_ , after all, and she had been spying on him since she'd arrived in Asgard. It wasn't as if she had any ill will toward him- quite the opposite in fact- but she would never be able to prove that to Odin and Frigga. 

 

 

There was a girl in Queen Frigga's garden. Loki had seen her many times before during the last few months, but he wasn't sure if she was real. Having studied Seidr with his mother, he now knew not to trust everything he saw. But he  _wanted_ to believe that this girl was real. Seeing her around made him feel like he had a friend, even if she didn't speak to him. Most people didn't unless they called him names or barked orders at him. At least she didn't do any of that.

And she was nice to look at. Actually, if Loki admitted it to himself, she was utterly _breathtaking._ The elves in Alfheim were near-perfect creatures with their absolutely symmetrical features and dainty figures, but when compared to the girl hiding in Frigga's roses, they were disgusting. Loki moved ever so slightly in order to get a better look at her. She had waist-length white blonde hair, pale- almost transluscent looking skin, and bright blue eyes. Her cheeks were pink from summer's heat, and her lips made the prettiest heart shape. 

Loki just wanted to  _talk_ to her. To ask her if she was one of his illusions gone awry. But he didn't want her to go away, so he simply watched from afar. 

 

 

 

As it turned out, Loki  _was_ hiding. Verðandi crouched down in the Azalea bushes while Odin's guards hunted for and found a slightly trembling Loki. 

"That's what you get for setting that fire in the Great Hall,  _argr boy!_ " Sif yelled from the field adjacent to them.

The other warriors laughed raucously as two Einherjar carried Loki away by his armpits. Verðandi watched his face redden in anger, and she willed him not to lash out at them. She knew it would only make matters worse. 

 

Two hours later, Verðandi lurked outside the palace. She peeked inside Loki's chamber room windows, which were almost always open. He seemed to like the evening air. For the last few months, he could be found sitting beside the window in his chair reading.

Now, it was almost time for dinner, and the chamber maids were scurrying about handing him clothing to wear. Loki stood from the chair he'd been perched upon. He turned around as if trying to hide his small frame from the maids who were still milling about, and pulled his tunic over his head. 

Verðandi had to slap a hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of shock when she saw Loki's back.

He had been whipped.  _Hard_. 

Angry red whelps marred his otherwise perfectly pale skin, and she knew then that he had good reason for hiding. While he  _may_ have set that fire in the Great Hall, he definitely didn't deserve the punishment he'd received. Verðandi gritted her teeth in anger and darted away from his window. 

 

 

Loki dressed in silence as the chamber maids chatted to him about dinner and what was happening around the palace that he should be aware of. He didn't hear any of it. All he could focus on was the burning pain in his back. He hadn't  _meant_ to do it. Not really. Magic was hard, and Loki was trying to be  _useful_ in some way, even if he couldn't be the warrior his brother could. 

He thought back to his massive failure. 

 

_"How can I possibly cook dinner if there is no heat on the stove?" He'd heard one of the palace chefs say._

_Loki had wanted to help, so he offered to produce a flame._

_The stoves used flame to heat food, right? And mother had taught him just a few days ago..._ _So he cast the spell to heat the stove, but something went wrong. His spell went awry. The flames spread quickly._

_Thankfully, one of the cooks had the presence of mind to beat the fire out with a bit of cloth._

_Loki, who was terrified of the repercussions, ran from the Hall and hid. As it turned out, he was right to hide._

 

Or maybe he should have stayed; explained himself. Maybe he should have asked for his mother's help. Maybe then he wouldn't be struggling to put his clothes on. He'd only tried to help, but he'd failed miserably. Maybe that was his lot in life. To be a miserable failure. To be Odin's greatest shame. 

As he walked down to dinner, escorted by Einherjar _so he wouldn't make any more trouble_ , he felt less like a prince and more like a prisoner. His back was on fire. Every time his ceremonial armor touched his tender flesh, he almost yelped in pain, but he told himself he would not show weakness. He would not give Odin or his guards the satisfaction. He would  _never_ break. 

_"I taught him how to create a flame! It could be useful on the battleground. Are you going to beat me too?!"_

Loki heard his mother's voice drift from the Great Hall, followed by his father's angry reply. 

_"Why in the Nine would you teach him to create **fire** , Frigga? You know of his pranks! He could have burned the palace to the ground!"_

_"Not on purpose! This was an accident, Odin. You know it."_

Loki's chest swelled with love for his mother. He'd known she would stand up for him. 

 

Dinner was brutal. Thor couldn't stop talking about Loki's  _incident_ , and Odin and Frigga were glaring at each other over the table. Loki's back burned so badly, he had to keep blinking to keep the tears at bay. He hadn't understood why Odin had required them to wear their ceremonial armor to dinner on _this_ night, this seemingly normal night...until now.

It was a continuation of his punishment. The armor was heavy. It hung on his bleeding wounds. Every time Loki moved, he had to stifle a flinch. 

Odin smiled maliciously across the table. 

 

 

Verðandihad managed to sneak around the side of the palace and enter without any Einherjar catching her. She'd had no idea she could be so  _sneaky_ , but she felt proud for a few moments. That is, until she saw Loki sitting at the dinner table picking at his food. His face was frozen in a mask of ambivalence, but Verðandi knew better. Her heart ached for him. He was  _just a boy_ , and he was being abused by the King  _she_ had sent to adopt him. On top of that,  _she_ had been the one to urge Frigga to teach him to use Seidr. 

Suddenly, Verðandi hated herself. She  _had_ to fix this. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

"She's going to grow old. She's already showing signs of aging. She's grown taller. Her hair is longer," Skuld remarked. 

 Urðr sat in silence for a few moments before speaking. She had already considered the ramifications of Verðandi's disappearance  _and_ her association with the Aesir. 

 

"That is not the real concern, Skuld. The real concern is that Verðandi will develop powerful magic; magic she cannot control. We were warned when she was only a baby to never allow her to leave Nornheim for any reason. We have failed."

 Skuld was confused by Urðr's damning proclamation. "How could leaving Nornheim cause such chaos? Surely that is a myth, Urðr." 

 

Both Norns had stopped their weaving; too weary to continue for the moment. It was unprecedented for them to stop during their working hours, but without Verðandi, everything seemed pointless. 

 "Skuld, Verðandi controls  _what is coming into being_ , which means she can create  _anything she wants_ out of  _thin air_... if she realizes she has the power to do so without her tapestries. She doesn't need them.  _We_ need them. We have to work with  _what once was_ , and  _what shall be_ , so we're bound to these...things.  Verðandi's power will be immeasurable. And  _dangerous_." 

 

 

 

 

"Loki, come with me," Frigga commanded when dinner was over. 

 Odin glared at her from his seat, but did not dare comment.

Her face was stony, but her eyes were like blazing flames. Loki had only ever seen his mother look that way a few times before. Once, when she'd caught Thor shoving him against the wall inside the palace; completely unprovoked. And once when she'd heard Sif call him  _argr_. He still wasn't completely sure what that word meant. He only knew it wasn't nice because all of the other warriors-in-training pointed at him and laughed. 

He followed her through the halls and into her chambers where she told him to sit beside her on the edge of her bed. 

 

"Let me see, my son." 

 Loki flushed. He didn't want his mother to see what Odin's personal guard had done to his back. He didn't want her to see him cry about it, which was what he would do if she became upset. 

 

"I won't hurt you," she soothed. 

Loki slowly removed his armor, revealing the nasty red lashes on his skin. To her credit, his mother didn't even flinch. She simply asked that he remain as still as possible. He felt a cool sensation work its way up his back, and soon he felt no more pain. When she was finished, she pulled him to her, holding him close. Loki enjoyed these rare moments alone with his mother. She was so loving; whereas his father was quite the opposite. 

 

"Tomorrow, I will teach you to heal simple wounds. In time, you will be able to heal yourself as well." 

She gently grasped his shoulders. "I won't let this happen again, son." 

 

Loki made his way back to his chambers in blissful solitude. He couldn't wait to be alone after the day he'd had. All he really wanted was to crawl into bed and forget it had ever happened, and thanks to his mother, he wouldn't be reminded of it every time he rolled over. 

 

 

After Verðandi had all she could take of spying on the royal family's dinner, she once again managed to sneak by the Einherjar and hide near Loki's chambers. She wanted to apologize for the damage she had done while she was on Nornheim, but she knew that was not possible. He would never believe that a  _child_ had once been one of the Norns.

Heart hammering in her throat, she'd decided to approach him as soon as possible. The least she could do was try to soothe him in some way. He was in pain, and all she wanted was to see him smile. She was so busy watching the hallway for Einherjar escorting the prince to his chambers that she didn't even hear his lone footsteps approaching. 

 

 

That girl was back. The one from his mother's garden. But this time, she was lurking in the shadows next to his chambers. Loki didn't know whether to call for the guards- the same guards who'd given him twenty lashes that afternoon- or to just ignore her as if she were an apparition. 

Or he could try talking to her, but he was afraid she might not be real. 

But she may be  _very real_. 

Loki stood rooted to his place for a few seconds before finally deciding what to do.

He wasn't going to be afraid anymore. Not of nightmares. Not of Thor. Nor Odin, or the other warriors-to-be. 

And he  _certainly_ wasn't going to be afraid of a girl. A beautiful girl. Well, he might be afraid of a beautiful girl, but for different reasons. 

 

 

"Are you real?" Loki asked, quietly but without a trace of fear in his voice. 

 

Verðandi gasped and jumped back, hitting her head against the wall behind her. 

"Ow...Y-yes. I'm real. I  _think_." 

 

Bright green eyes narrowed at her, and she felt as if he could look straight into her soul. 

"What are you doing here? Inside the palace? Outside my chambers?"

He looked her up and down, noting the soft white dress she wore. Verðandi blushed furiously under his scrutiny. 

"You can't possibly hurt me, so..." Loki was out of words for the moment, but he felt he'd gotten his point across. Still, the girl grasped her head as if she was in pain. Her blue eyes watered, and she stared at him. 

 

"I don't  _want_ to hurt you, Loki. I want to  _help_ you," she squeaked. 

 

Loki's eyes widened. "You know my name. Are you one of the chambermaid's daughters?"

 

Verðandi squinted at Loki. He was so calm. She couldn't figure out if he was questioning her because he was planning to turn her in, or if he was simply curious. 

"My head hurts..." she blurted. 

 

Loki jerked his head toward his chamber room door. "Come in here. I... I might be able to help." 

 

 

Loki knew that if he was caught with a strange girl in his room, he would be beaten twice as hard as he had been that afternoon, but at that point he didn't care. All he knew was that a beautiful girl was standing in front of him needing his help, and he couldn't turn her away. If she were caught, she would be put on trial for sneaking into the palace. Loki could see that she wasn't some common criminal. She was just a girl. She didn't deserve the punishment she would receive for such a crime. 

He opened the door and ushered her inside after looking around to make absolutely sure no one had spotted them. 

 

Verðandi didn't really need Loki's help, but she knew that was the only way she was getting inside his room after she'd been caught skulking around the palace. She either had to pretend she'd hurt herself, or she was going to be Einherjar food. 

 

Loki opened the door to his chambers and gently touched her back to encourage her to go inside. She could almost feel his eyes searching every crevice along the palace walls before he slipped in behind her, and she knew he must be terrified of getting caught harboring her. 

"If we get caught, I'll say I snuck in. I'll say that I was in your room when you got back from dinner," she whispered conspiratorily.

 

"It won't make any difference," Loki muttered. "Father  _wants_ to punish me. For what, I do not know." 

 Verðandi wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to tell him that Odin wasn't really his father, but she knew she couldn't. It would only make everything worse. 

 

 

"What's your name?" Loki asked her as he examined the non-existent bump on Verðandi's head. 

 

"Ver-" she paused. She couldn't tell him her  _real_ name. What if he had  _heard_ it before?

"Dani," she whispered. It was close enough to the truth anyway. 

 

"Dani," Loki said, testing the sound on his tongue. "I like that name. Where did you come from, Dani? I've seen you around here. Around the palace. I thought--- nevermind." 

 

Verðandi raised her head to look at him. He certainly didn't act like the harbinger of Ragnarok. Was he the same person Skuld and Urðr had warned her about? The one who would eventually tear Asgard and most of the Nine Realms apart? 

Surely not. Not this boy. He was no more than 900 years old, but Verðandi couldn't imagine him growing up to cause that kind of devastation. 

 

"Dani? Are you alright?" 

 

She suddenly realized she hadn't answered his last question, and she didn't really know how. She couldn't tell him where she was from. No one was _from_ Nornheim. Perhaps stalling would be the best tactic?

"Yes, I'm sorry. I guess I'm just sleepy. It has been a long day." 

 

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. "Answer my question. Where are you from, Dani?" 

 

"Muspelheim," she blurted, without thinking. 

 

Loki's lips pressed together in a thin line, and he grasped her shoulders tightly. 

_"You're lying."_

 


End file.
